Magic Circle - Departed Souls

By Karen A. Mann. More than three years after electrifying the metal community with Journey Blind, an expertly crafted blend of doom, traditional metal and classic rock, Boston’s somewhat mysterious Magic Circle, have returned with Departed Souls.

By Karen A. Mann


More than three years after electrifying the metal community with Journey Blind, an expertly crafted blend of doom, traditional metal and classic rock, Boston’s somewhat mysterious Magic Circle, have returned with Departed Souls. They haven’t really lost the mystery. Due to obligations with several other bands (Innumerable Forms, Sumerlands, Devil’s Dare, Stone Dagger, Lifeless Dark, Missionary Work, Pagan Altar), they rarely play live, and they still eschew social media. But on this latest album, the band looks further beyond its doomy foundations into the psychedelic world of prog to give us a powerfully mournful ode to those who have departed -- either by leaving this life or by leaving our lives.

However, Magic Circle is pretty blunt with their subject matter and artwork, which features a verdant, overgrown cemetery shown in the golden light of sunset. This is an album about death and endings, but the result is more bittersweet than maudlin, hopeful rather than despairing. A key reason for this is singer Brendan Radigan’s powerful voice, which could take the most mundane material and elevate it to the ethereal. There’s a good reason why he is often compared to the likes of Ronnie James Dio and Ian Gillan. His lyrics are poetic and kaleidoscopic, frequently invoking the seasons and the forces of nature as a sort of general lament on the plight of humanity.

The album opens with its title song, a Trouble-like medium-tempo head-bobber in which Radigan uses the wheel of the seasons to mourn a passing life.

Another harvest of the year
Echoing through time
Shaping the waves of the biosphere
With the cold wind’s sigh.

But Radigan is hardly the band’s only star. Guitarists Chris Corry and Renato Montenegro, trade evocative melodies, searing dual leads and chugging rhythms, often within the same song. It’s not unusual for them to be plodding on with a Sabbath-tinged riff, only to stop and indulge their inner Iron Maiden.

Magic Circle is a band that you can count on to mix things up. Several songs, including “Departed Souls” and “Valley of the Lepers,” follow this recipe. The album begins to unfold in an unexpected, but welcome way on the fourth song, “A Day Will Dawn Without Nightmares.” After a spacey intro, the song floats into an exotic, colorful melody with tablas and a retro-organ riff. Radigan croons about “haunting shadows,” a “glowing eventide” and “silhouetted memories.” It’s a very fitting divider for the album, which then becomes more progressive and a little less doomy, evoking Deep Purple more than Black Sabbath.

The band gives the listener a bit of a rest on “Bird City Blues,” a lush instrumental that clocks in at barely over a minute long, and includes the sound of rolling thunder in the distance. After that, the last song, “Hypnotized,” builds slowly, with Radigan coming in at top volume and power, and leading the listener on a roller coaster ride of emotions. As the riffs crescendo below him, Radigan lets loose:

Never to have or to want.
The will crumbles all.
Mortar and brick battlements
Finally fall.
Hypnotized.
And I hold back the hands of time.

For an album about death, Departed Souls leaves the listener feeling peaceful and uplifted.

Un - Sentiment

By Karen A. Mann. Just by their name alone, Seattle funeral doom quartet Un would lead you to believe that they are bleak and depressing, bogged down in the darkness of negative energy. The word “un” signals everything that is not: unhappy, unloved, unliving.

By Karen A. Mann

Artwork by Cauê Piloto

Just by their name alone, Seattle funeral doom quartet Un would lead you to believe that they are bleak and depressing, bogged down in the darkness of negative energy. The word “un” signals everything that is not: unhappy, unloved, unliving. The band even states that they wrote their latest album, Sentiment, “as a token of gratitude for all those who struggle against the weight of their own existence.”

“If you have ever questioned your worth,” they write, “if you have ever felt unloved, if you have ever asked yourself if any of the pain is really worth it... these songs are for you.”

There are only four songs, the shortest of which is almost 12 minutes long. Each varies between slow and slower, heavy laden under layers and layers of pulverizing, rumbling fuzz. Singer/guitarist Monte McCleery (who also handles bass duties in heavy doomsters Samothrace) sings an a scraping growl that sounds like a boulder being rolled from the mouth of a tomb.

Yet for all its crushing despair Sentiment is luxuriant and warm, with a contemplative quality that’s ultimately uplifting and even triumphant.

Album-opener “In Its Absence” begins with a radiant, singular guitar melody that evolves into a massive, lumbering riff. On the album’s strongest song, “Pools of Reflection,” guest singer Kelly Schilling of Dreadnought brings an ethereal quality with her high, angelic voice, contrasting nicely with McCleery’s growl and providing a brief reprieve from rumbling morass. The album’s last song, “A Garden Where Nothing Grows,” features an almost psychedelic melodic section with a slow-burning clean solo, before ending in a slow, blackened frenzy. With these last notes, Sentiment leaves the listener with a sense of aching loss that nevertheless feels radiant and serene.

Sentiment was released in September last year. More recently Un released a split with UK doom trio Coltsblood.

New Light Choir - Torchlight

By Karen A. Mann. It’s difficult to know just where to begin in reviewing New Light Choir. With black metal, doom, death metal, prog rock and even a little NWOBHM in their musical arsenal, the Raleigh duo isn’t so much genre-defying as genre-transcending.

By Karen A. Mann

Cover art by Thomas Moran.

It’s difficult to know just where to begin in reviewing New Light Choir. With black metal, doom, death metal, prog rock and even a little NWOBHM in their musical arsenal, the Raleigh duo isn’t so much genre-defying as genre-transcending. Band members John Niffenegger (vocals, guitars, bass, keys, synthesizer, Swiss bell) and Chris Dalton (drums, synthesizer, wizard) display an intellectual musical curiosity that’s both innocent and wide-ranging. Their previous full-length release, 2014’s Volume II, hinted at their vision, while remaining true to their stated love of Tribulation-style blackened death metal. On their most recent release, Torchlight, that vision is fully realized, with the drama of Kate Bush calling over the moors to Heathcliff, the pain of Dawnbringer’s dying Sun God, the fist-pumping insistence of Thin Lizzy and Scorpions and the questioning morose of doom. Throughout, there’s a gnarled, blackened thread that sometimes hides and sometimes makes its presence well-known, stitching the band’s disparate elements together to make a musical canvas that’s theirs alone.

The album’s opener, “Grand Architect,” starts off in a singular direction, with a loping riff that would be right at home on a Trouble album. Shortly thereafter, it speeds up into the song’s main melody, which sounds like a blackened version of High on Fire. Niffenegger’s voice is clean, high and insistent as he sings of a “stargazing seer,” and “Grand architect of dreams.” This transcendent theme plays throughout, including the exotic “Omens,” which tells of “the way revealed: An opening into forever,” the Scorpions-worshiping “Psalm 6” and the album’s majestic showpiece, “Stardust and Torchlight,” which includes the lyrics:

As silver beams of starlight stream on lovers lost in dream.
And in the space between our worlds, where day and night collide.

Even the artwork, a painting of a gauzy sunrise over a roiling sea by 19th Century American Romantic landscape painter Thomas Moran, hints at the emotional turmoil brought forth on the album. The Romantics were intrigued by the violence of nature, and considered humankind’s attempts to subjugate it futile. Ultimately, they believed in the supremacy of the individual over the collective and emotion over reason. New Light Choir’s lyrics (mostly written by Niffenegger) concern themselves with the same heady, mythical themes, and feature protagonists who are searching for some sort of cosmic or spiritual transcendence.

There are times when New Light Choir throws all expectations out the window, and the most obvious of them is on the second song, the vintage-worshiping occult-rocker “Queen of Winter.” With organ and Mellotron accompaniment by Scott Phillips (Dalton’s bandmate in indie-rock band Goner and its electronic offshoot Gnoer), “Queen of Winter” easily sound like a lost song from a Blood Ceremony album. This is further proof that even a band as unexpected and beholden to genre as New Light Choir can find a way to surprise their listeners.

Evoken - Hypnagogia

By Karen A. Mann. I admit I didn’t know much about World War I until recently. But with the recent centennial of the war, which began with the 1914 assassination of Austrian Archduke Franz Ferdinand, I’ve gained a new appreciation for this most grisly of wars

By Karen A. Mann

Artwork by Adam Burke.

I admit I didn’t know much about World War I until recently. But with the recent centennial of the war, which began with the 1914 assassination of Austrian Archduke Franz Ferdinand, I’ve gained a new appreciation for this most grisly of wars, in which national identities were born as empires collapsed. Millions of average men died in squalid trenches as horrifying new technologies, including the use of poisonous gas, the widespread use of the machine gun and the armored tank were deployed. Not only did the earth became a putrid wasteland of unburied corpses but the war was directly responsible for spreading the virulent Spanish Flu, which killed millions around the world. World War I was so bad that it was called the War to End All Wars, because people thought that certainly no war could be worse. Instead, the political instability unleashed continues, like an unbroken thread of terror, in parts of Europe and the Middle East to this day.

It’s against this hellish backdrop that New Jersey’s long-running elegiac funeral doom quintet Evoken have set their latest album, Hypnagogia. On a battlefield during that horrible war, an anonymous soldier muses bitterly on his impending death. He records his thoughts in a journal, then strikes a deal with a malevolent spirit to leave part of his soul behind to attach itself to -- and drive to suicide -- whomever chances to read the journal. With each successive death the spirit becomes stronger and more deadly, weaving an unbroken tale of terror through the century.

Evoken has always been completely unafraid to push the boundaries of metal further than they can go, and then some. I had the distinct pleasure of seeing them perform an experimental set with Merzbow for the Hopscotch Festival in Raleigh back in 2013. Brian Sanders, who contributed cello for their 2012 release, Atra Mors, returns on Hypnagogia, and at times plays a starring role. The album begins with an ominous string arrangement from Sanders, along with a distant chorale. The feeling is deep, dark and foreboding; lush and natural. A peal of squalling feedback introduces the crushing mechanical elements, bringing to mind primitive iron tanks rolling over and subjugating all that is natural about the land. Through eight songs, the band chugs through scathing doom with gnarled, blackened bits, serpentine riffage and eerie keyboard melodies, and pastoral, mournful passages with evocative vocals and stately string arrangements.

The album includes two short instrumentals -- aptly titled "Hypnagogia" and "Hypnopompic," that act as interludes in the action and represent the soldier's death and rebirth. The term “hypnagogia” refers to hallucinations a lot of us experience in the moments just before sleep when our bodies are paralyzed but our minds are still active. By contrast, “hypnopompic” is when we have paralyzed hallucinations upon waking up. If you’ve ever woken up in the middle of the night thinking there’s an intruder in your bedroom and unsuccessfully tried to scream, you’ve had a hypnopompic hallucination. Both songs have a hallucinogenic, disorienting quality and provide fitting bookends to the album's most adventurous song, "Ceremony of Bleeding, " which features a haunting, operatic choir ensemble in the middle. The album’s final song, “The Weald of Perished Men,” begins with ambient noise of crickets, wind and the sound of digging before easing into a clean, uplifting guitar melody that weaves its way through the entire song. A mournful cello and keyboard passage follows, with the soldier questioning what will become of him, then segues into crushing guitars and scathing vocals.

Fittingly released on Nov. 9, just before the centenary of war’s end on Nov. 11, 2018, Hypnagogia is an elegantly bleak, yet strangely warm and uplifting, ode to one lonely, anonymous man who found an ingenious way to live on, while repaying the world for the futility of his death.

Mutilation Rites - Chasm

By Karen A. Mann. Since forming in 2009, Brooklyn’s Mutilation Rites have established themselves as staunch purveyors of American black metal. Solid, but pretty comfortable to stay within their lane and not get too experimental.

By Karen A. Mann.

Artwork by Mark Riddick.

Since forming in 2009, Brooklyn’s Mutilation Rites have established themselves as staunch purveyors of American black metal. Solid, but pretty comfortable to stay within their lane and not get too experimental. They also put on a ferocious live show, and that energy has never been properly documented on previous releases.

On Chasm, their first release in four years, they blow expectations out of the water with a rampaging mix of death metal, grindcore and punk, while still nodding to their blackened roots. Chasm is also Mutilation Rites’ best-sounding album to date with much burlier guitars and intricate, gut-punching drumming. It was recorded on a strict three-day schedule by bass player Ryan Jones at Brooklyn’s famed St. Vitus club, where Jones is an audio engineer. The band freely admits in a short documentary they made about the album that they’re primarily a live band. Recording in a room designed for a concert almost certainly helped the band finally capture their live energy.

The album’s opening track, “Pierced Larynx,” sets the tone, opening with a feedback squall and a grinding cacophony before settling into a lurching death metal groove. The song then twists and turns in on itself, barreling through a variety of brutal styles and tempos courtesy of Tyler Coburn, whose exemplary drumming is a large part of why this album is so good. The next three songs follow a similar recipe -- ferocious riffing, blasting drums, gnawing shrieks and withered gutteral growls, and unexpected passages that keep the listener from getting too comfortable.

The band shifts the formula back to more of a blackened sound on the final two tracks, “Chasm” and “Putrid Decomposition.” Though both songs (notably “Chasm”) have moments of sonic brilliance, neither can match the ferocity of the rest of the album and could have benefitted from being shortened. Regardless, Chasm remains Mutilation Rites’ most adventurous and polished album to date. On the strength of “Post Mortem Obsession” and “Pierced Larynx” this album will likely be on my list of albums of the year.

Youngblood Supercult - The Great American Death Rattle

By Karen A. Mann. Listening to The Great American Death Rattle, the third release from Topeka, Kansas, quartet Youngblood Supercult is like stumbling across an old T shirt from a long ago rock festival from the ‘70s.

By Karen A. Mann


Listening to The Great American Death Rattle, the third release from Topeka, Kansas, quartet Youngblood Supercult is like stumbling across an old T shirt from a long ago rock festival from the ‘70s. You know, the type of show that would have been labeled an “All-Day Super Jam” and would have involved copious amounts of weed, Budweiser and beautiful girls in cutoffs and tube tops. Black Sabbath, Blue Oyster Cult and Black Oak Arkansas were probably on the bill. Finding that old shirt won't necessarily bring back memories-- they're too hazy-- but it will bring back a feeling that you had a good time, even if the day ended with you puking in the parking lot.

If Youngblood Supercult had existed then, they probably would have played that festival, too. Their hazy take on heavy blues -- mixed with a generous dose of English doom and Southern rock -- would fit right in with the era’s best classic rock bands. The band’s debt to Sabbath is obvious. Guitarist Bailey Smith has spent a good amount of time worshiping at the Church of Iommi with a few side nods to Robin Trower. Still, they sound less retro than simply familiar, like a song you loved years ago, but whose title you can’t quite recall.

Their promise was evident on their 2016 album High Plains, which cemented their distinctive sound, described by the band as “a sinister, fuzzy ride through a lysergic version of the Midwest.”

Youngbood Supercult delivers on that early promise with The Great American Death Rattle, the band’s second release with vocalist David Merrill, whose high, lonesome voice contrasts nicely with Smith’s impressive sludgy riffing. Blasting through nine songs, the band alternates between head-bobbing slow-burners and revved-up ragers. Even when the songs are bathed in a gauzy echo, drummer Weston Alford and bass player Brad Morris keep the groove earth-bound and on-point.

There are no bad songs on the album, but at least three are true standouts. The first is “Draugr,” a plodding, ominous tale that includes some of Merrill’s most creative lyrics, in this case about an undead mythological creature.

Crackling from the forest floor,
As ancient graves become no more.
Clawing from the sacred ground,
Delight in that horrific sound.

Overturned, the tombstones lie,
Upon the earth as Hell arrives,
And every creature fears their fate,
As blood flows from perdition’s gate.

Immediately after “Draugr” is “Wormwood,” a rager with riffs as expansive as as a wide-open sky. The Great American Death Rattle ends with the album’s best song, “Sticky Fingers,” which extols the virtues of the sweet leaf with a fuzzy, chugging riff and Merrill’s most soaring vocals.

I’ve got sticky fingers and a bowl full of embers,
My mind is alive and my body surrenders,
The flower of life opens portals unentered,
And finally my eyes can see.

With The Great American Death Rattle, the band makes a pretty significant leap forward in their songwriting, musically and lyrically, resulting in one of the best releases of the summer. It should be no surprise that Youngblood Supercult was invited to play this year’s Psycho Las Vegas, the modern heir to the debauched rock festivals of yore.

Iah - Iah

By Karen A. Mann. Relative newcomers to the stoner/desert rock scene, Argentina’s Iah offer astral enlightenment through hypnotic melodies that keep the listener engaged, even without words. Formed in 2016, the band took it’s name from

By Karen A. Mann.


Relative newcomers to the stoner/desert rock scene, Argentina’s Iah offer astral enlightenment through hypnotic melodies that keep the listener engaged, even without words.

Formed in 2016, the band took it’s name from the Egyptian god of the moon, which is appropriate given their expansive, mysterious tendencies. Their instrumental compositions mix post-rock, prog, doom and stoner elements into a heady formula that elevates the listener to another astral plane.

Iah has two releases to it’s credit: a self-titled four-song album released in January of this year, and a two-song companion EP released in June. Though released separately, the two create a cohesive whole, and are meant to be heard together.

The first release starts off with “Cabalgan los Cielos,” a solid composition that’s heavy on delay, sludgy riffing and spacey interludes. The band pays homage to classic stoner rock, notably Colour Haze, Kyuss and Karma to Burn, through hypnotic melodies and a rock solid rhythm section that keeps the interstellar guitar elements grounded. As you might expect, Iah can tend toward the jammier side of stoner rock, especially on “Ouroboros” and “Stolas.” That latter song ends with some surprisingly doomy melodies, ushering in “Eclipsum,” the release’s final, and heaviest, song.

Unlike the other songs on this release, there’s no build up to this one. “Eclipsum” begins with a sludgy, head-bobbing wah-driven riff that veers off into an ambient passage before crashing back in at the end.

Iah gets heavier on the two-song EP, while also adding more structure to their compositions.The band is at its best on the final song, “Nuboj,” which reveal the band’s progressive and post-rock influences through a combination of straight-ahead heavy rock, soaring guitar melodies and Pink Floyd-style ambience.

Overall these two releases serve as an impressive debut from this new Argentinian band.

Solbrud - Vemod

By Karen A. Mann. Solbrud is not a band to be hurried. On their latest release, Vemod, the Copenhagen quartet builds solemnly elegant atmospheric black metal slowly and precisely, layering sounds that are furious and dramatic with those that are softer and reflective.

By Karen A. Mann.


Solbrud is not a band to be hurried. On their latest release, Vemod, the Copenhagen quartet builds solemnly elegant atmospheric black metal slowly and precisely, layering sounds that are furious and dramatic with those that are softer and reflective. There are only four songs on the album, but they are long (the shortest is almost nine minutes), and each takes the listener on a beautifully gloomy journey through a variety of soundscapes.

The opening track, “Det Sidste Lys” (The Last Light) opens slowly with a full 10 seconds of atmospheric noise before the first tentative notes are played. With the sound of a thunderstorm in the background, the sparse melody evokes a sense of withering loneliness. More than two minutes go by before the song explodes in a burst of tremolo picking. Singer Ole Łuk’s gnawing screech comes in at around the five-minute mark. The ambient thunderstorm sound appears again under a short passage where the instruments drop out except for the bass, which repeats the central melody of the first half of the song. “Det Sidste Lys” finishes with a return to metallic fury.

Photos by Morten Jensen.

The band is at its best on the middle two songs. “Forfald” (Decay) blasts full-throttle for more than seven punishing minutes, before twisting into a slow, beautiful passage, and finally ending with a pastoral organ melody. “Menneskeværk” (The Work of Man) floats in with ambient guitar and bass tones, then sharp, dramatic bursts of sound that evolve into pummeling black metal.

Solbrud swerves into blackgaze territory with the final song, “Besat af Mørke” (Obsessed with Darkness), which offers a myriad of soundscapes in which listeners can lose themselves. A surprisingly traditional guitar solo brings Vemod to a soaring, mournful, unhurried end.

Solbrud is currently on tour through Europe supporting like-minded South African group Wildernessking. Aficionados of nature-worshiping atmospheric black metal should definitely check out this tour.

Destroyer of Light - Chamber of Horrors

By Karen A. Mann. Austin’s Destroyer of Light weave riffadelic melodies and ominous lyrics to create a personal brand of Texas doom that’s dark, smoky and not afraid to boogie. With two full releases and a split EP with Tucson’s Godhunter under their belt

By Karen A. Mann.

Artwork by Adam Burke.

Austin’s Destroyer of Light weave riffadelic melodies and ominous lyrics to create a personal brand of Texas doom that’s dark, smoky and not afraid to boogie. With two full releases and a split EP with Tucson’s Godhunter under their belt, the band now takes a creative leap forward with Chamber of Horrors, out July 14 on the band’s own Heavy Friends Records.

The album begins with the sound of heavy doors clanging open, followed by guitarist/vocalist Steve Colca’s feedback wail. This intro song, “Whispers In the Threshold,” is just under a minute and a half long and it’s basically instrumental (though you can hear ominous voices underneath the murk), but it offers a preview of what you can expect in this particular chamber: plodding, dirge-like rhythms, fuzzed-out melodies, and vocals that are always ominous, whether they’re being sung, bellowed or whispered.

Photos © John Mourlas. All rights reserved.

From there, the album quickly segues into “Into the Smoke,” which showcases Colca’s powerful, expressive voice at full throttle. The band lists Mercyful Fate and Electric Wizard as two of its biggest influences, and it’s easy to hear why, especially in Colca’s lyrics and vocal delivery. He’s angry, terrifying, and fearful, as he delivers enraged threats and dire admonishments.

“The Virgin” begins with a sample from the 1973 B-movie thriller Satan’s School for Girls, which adds to the dreadful occult atmosphere. But Chamber of Horrors isn’t completely dark and despairing. Mid-way through the album the instrumental “Twilight Procession” offers a slow, floating respite, with delayed psychedelic melodies that turn almost bluesy at the end. That’s part of what distinguishes this album among others in the doom genre -- the band’s willingness to go in unexpected directions, including adding a bit of Texas swagger.

The album comes to a close with “Buried Alive,” a 10-minute wah-drenched dirge with Colca sounding particularly portentous. The song chugs to a wail of feedback and the sudden sound of those same heavy doors clanging shut. It’s a fitting bookend to an enjoyably dark musical journey.

Walpyrgus - Walpyrgus Nights

By Karen A. Mann. North Carolina’s Walpyrgus play classic heavy metal that recalls the period in time when British Steel and Number of the Beast ruled MTV, and a bevvy of European and American bands popped up with variations of that raw, aggressive sound.

By Karen A. Mann.

Artwork by Gustavo Sazes.

North Carolina’s Walpyrgus play classic heavy metal that recalls the period in time when British Steel and Number of the Beast ruled MTV, and a bevvy of European and American bands popped up with variations of that raw, aggressive sound. The band’s reverence for the era of Denim and Leather is obvious from the outset: Think screaming dual leads, ripping melodies, and singer Johnny Aune’s powerful voice wailing creepy odes about dead girls, ghosts, witches and woe.

Formed in 2012 by veterans of long-running regional acts Twisted Tower Dire, October 31, Daylight Dies, Heaven Wept and Viper, Walpyrgus has teased listeners with several singles and two live albums. And just in case you doubted where their musical interests lie, two of those singles were faithful covers of Riot’s “Outlaw” and Mercyful Fate’s “Doomed by the Living Dead.” Now the band offers the most complete illustration (literally and figuratively) of their full metal power on Walpyrgus Nights, their first full-length.

Photos by Karen

Ripping through eight songs (including a cover of Witch Cross’ “Light of a Torch”), Walpyrgus Nights weaves a spooky, Lovecraftian tale that’s macabre, but in an almost light-hearted way. Aune’s voice is passionate and emotive, even when the lyrics turn a little campy. A sample:

Dead of night, come to life. You’re the Queen, got no equal.
But you’re cold, and you’re dark and you’re evil

Adding to the fun factor: Vinyl versions of Walpyrgus Nights includes a 56-page comic book that illustrates the stories behind the songs with drawings of sexy witches, clawing goblins, foreboding palm readers and dire warnings.

While the majority of the album is straightforward, meat-and-potatoes classic metal, the band veers into pop-punk territory on the first single, “Dead Girls,” a fun, furious four-chord ripper that features chanted backup lyrics and even an organ solo. It’s a standout song on an album that marks Walpyrgus’ as one of the best bands in the New Wave of American Traditional Metal scene.

Datura - The Harrowing

By Karen A. Mann. North Carolina’s Datura takes an all-inclusive approach on their metal odyssey, touching on thrash, doom, sludge, black metal and even a little prog on The Harrowing, their first full-length release.

By Karen A. Mann.


North Carolina’s Datura takes an all-inclusive approach on their metal odyssey, touching on thrash, doom, sludge, black metal and even a little prog on The Harrowing, their first full-length release. The band ventures out in many musical directions -- sometimes at an angry, Crowbar-esque plod, but more often at breakneck speed --on the album’s eight songs. But their main avenue of choice is old school death metal, the type that would have fans of Carcass, Slayer and Death banging their heads.

The album opens with “Keeper of the Light,” which begins in doom territory, then speeds up angrily and quickly. Two of Datura’s most distinctive elements quickly reveal themselves: the unholy growl of vocalist Kellie Gates and the sweet, clean leads of guitarists Allen Foster and Raymond King. These two elements work together to make The Hallowing so effective. Gates’ scathing voice combines with raw guitar melodies and a punishing rhythm section (courtesy of bass player Adam Cohen and drummer Brian Watson) to create a beastly wall of sound, with those clean elements ripping through. Back-to-back songs “Battle Worn” and “Charm of the Rat King” showcase the band’s strengths.

But while Datura is always heavy, their sound isn’t always aggressive. The title song is a soft instrumental with haunting, shimmering riffs. That’s just a short break before the band roars back with “Haxan,” an angry thrasher that slows down to a sludgy crawl. The Harrowing ends with the band’s most ambitious song, “WVLFCVNT,” which builds up ominously with shimmering guitars before throwing a thrashy punch and settling into a death ‘n’ roll groove.

Datura’s willingness to explore keeps their sound from ever growing stagnant, and yet they always remain consistent and cohesive. The Harrowing is a harbinger of exciting things to come from this band.

Coldfells - Coldfells

By Karen A. Mann. Blackened doom trio Coldfells hails from a town just across the Ohio River from Wheeling, WV -- an area of astounding natural beauty that’s been hit hard economically. The band also is part of a close-knit heavy music scene, and includes members of at least

By Karen A. Mann.


Blackened doom trio Coldfells hails from a town just across the Ohio River from Wheeling, WV -- an area of astounding natural beauty that’s been hit hard economically. The band also is part of a close-knit heavy music scene, and includes members of at least three other bands you need to know about: the haunting, acoustic Nechochwen, classic doomsters Brimstone Coven and blackened sludge monsters Plaguewielder. Coldfells reflects these influences and their environment with music that’s both soothingly ambient, scathingly bleak, and always heavy.

Their first full-length, released via Bindrune Recordings in March of this year, features five lengthy haunting paeans to nature in both lushness and decay. (The band released a two-song EP, Black Breath, in 2014.) Comparisons to Agalloch and Paradise Lost aren’t really off the mark: Coldfells seems to equally shift between cold, despairing black metal and stately doom. Fans of Ulver’s Black Metal Trilogie, especially Bergtatt, will also find a lot to love about this release.

The album begins hauntingly with “The Rope,” which opens with an eerie organ melody and a chorus of clean, soaring voices singing wordlessly. Soon the song gives way to chunky, blackened riffs, and harsh vocals. The lyrics are mystical and mournful, seeking truth and despairing of reality.

The remainder of the album follows this recipe fairly closely: Quiet intros give way to blackened assaults that roll in like storm clouds, engulfing everything and raining doom. The album hits its peak with the last two songs. The sludgy “All Night We Flew,” uses subtle, and unexpected, piano melodies to soften the oppressively angry rhythms.

The last song, “Eons Pass,” is the album’s doomiest and most discordant. It also makes good use of the ambient sound of a storm, along with acoustic guitar and piano, before ending on a thunderous note. The feeling is haunting, tranquil and melancholy.

Overall, Coldfells is a noteworthy debut full-length that showcases a band completely in harmony with its environment. If you’re at all able, you should listen to it in the woods, or by the ocean or anywhere away from civilization, in order to experience its power.

Elder - Reflections of a Floating World

By Karen A. Mann. Elder was already a force to be reckoned with before Lore, the 2015 release that expanded their sound worlds beyond stoner-ish heavy psych and introduced them to a wider audience. A staple on critical year-end lists, Lore was an arresting slab of Allman Brothers-style

By Karen A. Mann


Elder was already a force to be reckoned with before Lore, the 2015 release that expanded their sound worlds beyond stoner-ish heavy psych and introduced them to a wider audience. A staple on critical year-end lists, Lore was an arresting slab of Allman Brothers-style improvisation mixed with Pink Floyd’s experimentation, led by singer/guitarist Nick DiSalvo’s soaring guitar and wrapped up in five wide-ranging, multi-part compositions. Lore was such an achievement that it was easy to wonder how the band would top themselves on their next release.

Well, they did, easily. While Lore opened the door to a new world for Elder, Reflections of a Floating World finds the band venturing out boldly, exploring every nook and cranny of this new soundscape, and sending us six sonic postcards from beyond. With the copious addition of Mellotron, keyboards and pedal steel (thanks to guest musicians Michael Risberg and Michael Samos), Elder’s sound takes on a lush adventurousness only hinted at on Lore.

Photos by Abrisad.

The opening song, “Sanctuary,” sets the roadmap for the album. Opening with DiSalvo’s signature riffing, the song evolves into a spacey jam with psychedelic, polyphonic melodies and quiet interludes.

After a quiet, Floydian intro, “The Falling Veil” shifts to the type of progressive riffing found on Lore’s “Compendium,” with time signatures that shift unexpectedly. Matt Couto’s snare drum is the one constant, acting almost like a trail marker as the song ventures into unfamiliar terrain.

Expecting the unexpected is always a good strategy with Elder. The only moment in which Reflections of a Floating World takes off into an ill-advised direction is “Sonntag,” a full-on ode to Krautrock that’s pleasant enough in its hypnotica, but seems a bit out of place with the rest of the album. Elder is back to its classic sound with the last song, “Thousand Hands,” which offers an appropriate bookend to the album, ending Reflections of a Floating World with a shimmering wall of sound, and setting the bar even higher for Elder’s continued musical evolution.

The Fierce and the Dead - Field Recordings

By Karen A. Mann. Fans of progressive metal would be well-advised to check out London’s The Fierce and the Dead, an instrumental group that has built an extremely loyal fan base with four albums’ worth

By Karen A. Mann.


Fans of progressive metal would be well-advised to check out London’s The Fierce and the Dead, an instrumental group that has built an extremely loyal fan base with four albums’ worth of well-crafted, guitar-heavy tunes.

A great starting point is the band’s latest release, Field Recordings, which was recorded live at Britain’s Ramblin’ Man Fair in July 2016. The album comprises six songs from throughout their career, including their “hit single” (announced as such with a good bit of humor) “666...6”.

Photo by rjforster.

While taking obvious cues from later era King Crimson, the band’s improvisational, often jammy sound also recalls Television, Kyuss and even contemporaries Elder. Each song is a multi-part journey that takes the listener from swirly looped melodies to insistent, skronky noise and back again, all wrapped around a driving rhythm section that remains consistent in the midst of the controlled chaos of the guitars.

Photo by rjforster.

The album’s highlight is the second-to-last song, “Palm Trees,” from the band’s 2015 release, Magnet. Beginning with a simple, repeated riff, the song builds to a trance-like crescendo, whereupon the guitars drop off, and the bass and drums continue on, signaling a transition to a faster, heavier, more discordant ending.

After giving Field Recordings a good listen, I recommend you check out the band’s back catalog, particularly Magnet, which is their most recent release of new material. These are on Bandcamp as well.

Oranssi Pazuzu - Muukalainen Puhuu & Farmakologinen

By Karen A. Mann. For most North Americans, their introduction to Finland’s otherworldly Oranssi Pazuzu came with the 2013 release Valonielu, an engaging head-scratcher of an album that seemed like a missive from another world.

By Karen A. Mann.

For most North Americans, their introduction to Finland’s otherworldly Oranssi Pazuzu came with the 2013 release Valonielu, an engaging head-scratcher of an album that seemed like a missive from another world. The band followed up with 2016’s Värähtelijä, which launched the band’s free-form blackened psychedelia into the sonic cosmos -- and landed them on a lot of year-end best-of lists. While the band seemingly appeared out of nowhere with Valonielu, they actually had been recording and releasing albums in Europe for several years. Now, thanks to the band’s higher profile, 20 Buck Spin is re-releasing two previous albums and the band’s half of a split EP with Candy Cane, another band from Tampere, Finland.


The first, Muukalainen Puhuu, was originally released in 2009, and shows that Oranssi Pazuzu had a solid vision for their sound from the very beginning. As with every Oranssi Pazuzu release, the only constants here are singer/guitarist Jun-His’ corrosive, almost mechanical sounding vocals, and a sense that you just never quite know where the music is going to take you. Tribal drumming, discordant guitars and droning ambience all make an appearance. The organ does have a more prominent role in this release, and as a result, the music is a bit warmer than the band’s other releases.

Farmokologinen, which is Oranssi Pazuzu’s four-song half of the the split with Candy Cane, is much colder, bleaker and more dramatic. It’s short, but powerful, and shows the band fully diving into a more blackened sound. Perhaps because it’s so short, it’s also the most cohesive, least otherworldly of these re-releases.

The last re-release is 2012’s Kosmonument, a double album , which is unfortunately not on Bandcamp. The band returns to a spacey, rhythmic sound, at time veering into trance and blackgaze. Kosmonument was originally released in a very small quantity with detailed artwork, which 20 Buck Spin is replicating in this re-release.

There’s a lot to explore in all three of these Oranssi Pazuzu re-releases. Each offers a new musical ocean on which they seem to be the only qualified ship captain. Oranssi Pazuzu doesn’t defy genres as much as sail along unencumbered by them. The upshot: If you loved Valonielu and Värähtelijä, you will not be disappointed in any of these releases.

All Hell - The Grave Alchemist

By Karen A. Mann. It’s a long way from the Blue Ridge Mountains to the Carpathians, and the only “castle” in the area is an opulent tourist attraction that was built less than 150 years ago. Still, Asheville trio All Hell evoke an ancient gothic creepiness on the band’s third release, The Grave Alchemist.

By Karen A. Mann.


It’s a long way from the Blue Ridge Mountains to the Carpathians, and the only “castle” in the area is an opulent tourist attraction that was built less than 150 years ago. Still, Asheville trio All Hell evoke an ancient gothic creepiness on the band’s third release, The Grave Alchemist. While showing promise on two earlier, punkier releases, All Hell leaps ahead with a more mature and varied sound on this release. Ripping through 12 caustic blasts of blackened thrash, all of which are under five minutes long, the band spins a ghostly centuries-long story of alchemy, lust, and vampirism.

The morbid tale begins with “Grave Alchemy,” whose riff-heavy intro evolves into a thrashing ripper that displays the band’s influences (first-wave black metal, D-beat, early deathrock) for all to hear. There’s a castle and a dragon. “Secrets of blood passed down,” and “the wisdom of all time, ripped from the dead.” Before the Alchemist’s eyes, a deadly shape begins to rise.

Photos © John Mourlas. All rights reserved.

The band sticks fairly closely to this toxic formula for the remainder of the album, occasionally slowing down and replacing the demonic snarl with creepy clean singing. Blackened fury interplays with catchy hooks throughout. A tale unfolds of burnt offerings, deadly lust, and a vampire rising from the undead to exact his bloody vengeance.

The album closes with its best and longest song, “I Am the Mist,” a mid-tempo headbanger that almost forces you to put your fist in the air and chant along with singer/guitarist J. Curwen as he spits out the words “I am the mist!” over and over again. The year is young, but I’m pretty sure The Grave Alchemist will end up on my year-end best-of list.

Doomed and stoned in Brazil

By Karen A. Mann. I’ll admit that my knowledge of Brazilian metal (and Brazilian music itself) doesn’t extend far beyond the major players, but when Max sent me links to about a dozen current doom bands from there, I was pretty intrigued. After giving them

By Karen A. Mann.

I’ll admit that my knowledge of Brazilian metal (and Brazilian music itself) doesn’t extend far beyond the major players, but when Max sent me links to about a dozen current doom bands from there, I was pretty intrigued. After giving them all a good listen, I was also impressed and with faced with a conundrum. All of them are damn good and really worthy of a review on their own. I did ultimately decide to cull the list down to the five that stood out to me personally. I also tried to get a good mix of styles, as many on the original 12 were heavily in the stoner groove.

I can say this: Belo Horizonte -- home to Sepultura and Sarcofogo -- really must be the capital of Brazilian heavy metal because many of these bands call that city home. Also, I was impressed with the vocalists of all these bands, almost all of whom sing clean and possess some serious pipes.

Art by Cristiano Suarez.

The first band on the list, and the clear standout in many ways is Necro, a young, female-fronted psychedelic doom trio that released two singles in August and September of last year, and their first full-length (Adiante) in December. With clear influences including Budgie, Deep Purple and Wishbone Ash, Necro’s sound featuring multi-part rhythm changes, freak-out guitar solos and the odd Mellotron touch just to chill things out.

Art by T. Witchlover.

In October of 2015, Necro released a split with another band, Witching Altar, (see here and here) which unfortunately doesn’t seem to be currently active (that split was the last thing they have listed on Bandcamp). That’s unfortunate because Witching Altar -- especially on that split -- offers a heady mixture of of Uncle Acid’s trippy melodies and Pentagram’s foreboding gloom, with a little hit of The Hellacopters’ speed and sneer.

Artwork: Lucas Krepa

Hailing from Florianopolis, Muñoz operates pretty firmly in the stoner groove, with bluesy, fat riffs and head-bobbing grooves. Check out their September, 2016, release, Smokestack.

Fallen Idol offers bombastic epic doom in the vein of Candlemass with fist-pumping riffs complemented perfectly by Rodrigo Sitta’s powerful, clean, high voice.

Artwork by Daniel Bretas.

Fans of The Blues Pills and Blood Ceremony will love this witchy, female-fronted band, whose name translates to Dune, Breeze and Flame. Their January, 2016, release features evocative vocals by Anna Martinez, over fuzzy guitars and heavily foreboding keyboards.

If you’d like to check out the other bands on the list:
HellLight - Pesta - Cattarse - Abske Fides
Fuzzly - Ruínas de Sade - Pantanum

Unearthly Trance - Stalking the Ghost

By Karen A. Mann. New York’s Unearthly Trance have been crafting earth-crushing sludge with a strange, darkly magical quality since 2000. Over the course of several releases, they’ve moved from a blackened sound to one that’s doomier, more psychedelic and experimental. Their latest Relapse release

By Karen A. Mann.

Cover art by Orion Landau.

New York’s Unearthly Trance have been crafting earth-crushing sludge with a strange, darkly magical quality since 2000. Over the course of several releases, they’ve moved from a blackened sound to one that’s doomier, more psychedelic and experimental. Their latest Relapse release, Stalking the Ghost, sees them at their most expansive and diverse. Through eight songs, they cover a lot of ground, from pounding heavy rock to crushing, murky doom to droning noise, all with occasional clean vocals and guitar cutting through the ominous layers.

The album opens with “Into the Spiral,” a straight-ahead, sludgy rocker that seems pretty cut-and-dried, until the song suddenly slows down, with the vocals shouted in like a call from outer space. That unexpected quality is what makes Unearthly Trance such a compelling listen. Just as you’re riding along with a song and think you know where it’s going, the journey suddenly becomes weirder. Not only are you no longer on the same road, you’re not even in the same universe.

This quality is best embodied by three successive songs in the middle of the album. The first is “Scythe,” which begins crushingly, with majestic, classically doomy guitars, and ominous, shimmering cymbals.

“Famine” is cold and crushing, with singer/guitarist Ryan Lipynsky’s death-rattle vocals rumbling under layers of noise. The song veers into clean, minimalism before swirling into a discordant, repetitive riff. An unexpected soaring solo rises, phoenix-like, out of the murk.

Finally, “Lion Strength” showcases the band’s more psychedelic side with a swirling, trance-like melody and ominous vocals that sound as if they’re being yelled from far away, ominous, before the song floods back in with a wallop.

It should be noted that all three members of Unearthly Trance, along with Tim Bagshaw of Ramesses/Electric Wizard/With the Dead, also comprise Serpentine Path, which veers more toward English horror doom than psychedelic sludge. “The Great Cauldron,” with its plodding, angry riffing, is the song is the song where the connection between both bands can best be heard.

Stalking the Ghost truly goes out on a limb with the final song, “In the Forests Keep,” which begins quietly, reverby clean guitars and a foreboding, extended melody as droning noise wells up behind it. As the noise becoming more insistent, a voice, sounding as if it’s being transmitted from outer space, recites the ominous lyrics before the song fades away. It’s an unexpected, and yet appropriate, finale to the album.

Vanha - Within the Mists of Sorrow

By Karen A. Mann. Though they've only been together since the summer of 2016, Swedish doom duo Vanha (which is actually Finnish for "old") offer an impressive debut with Within the Mists of Sorrow. Moving at a dirge-like pace, the album envelops the listener with multi-layered sounds, including mournful piano, blackened guitars

By Karen A. Mann


Though they've only been together since the summer of 2016, Swedish doom duo Vanha (which is actually Finnish for "old") offer an impressive debut with Within the Mists of Sorrow. Moving at a dirge-like pace, the album envelops the listener with multi-layered sounds, including mournful piano, blackened guitars, atmospheric sounds and violin. Singing in English, vocalist Jan Johansson, alternates between a clean, forlorn voice (at times whispering to great effect) and an angry growl. The result is funereal and almost oppressively gloomy, but with flashes of clear, melodic beauty shining through.

The album’s opener, “Old Heart Fails,” sets the bleak stage with a sorrowful piano melody that gives way to blackened guitars, crashing cymbals, tolling bells and plenty of lyrics about darkness and loss. From there, be prepared for a slow, dark and depressive journey through six more songs -- with titles like “Into the Cold Light” and “Desolation” -- that evoke longing, sorrow, and a deep sense of impending doom. The occasional violin riff offers the lone bit of musical warmth. The album ends quietly with the piano-and-violin-driven instrumental, “The Curse.”

Overall, Within the Mists of Sorrow evokes a feeling of being left completely alone in a harsh, but astoundingly beautiful landscape, with no resources and no hope of rescue. It’s a noteworthy achievement from such a young band.

Suppressive Fire - Nature of War

By Karen A. Mann. North Carolina’s war-obsessed death-thrashers Suppressive Fire offered their first full-length in early 2016 with Bedlam, a powerful slab of Teutonic-inspired military thrash that had all the subtlety of a bayonet in the stomach. The band doesn’t stray too far from that line of attack on their latest release, Nature of War. Even artist Matt Slime’s cover art is grim and nihilistic

By Karen A. Mann

Artwork by Matt Slime.

North Carolina’s war-obsessed death-thrashers Suppressive Fire offered their first full-length in early 2016 with Bedlam, a powerful slab of Teutonic-inspired military thrash that had all the subtlety of a bayonet in the stomach.

The band doesn’t stray too far from that line of attack on their latest release, Nature of War. Even artist Matt Slime’s cover art is grim and nihilistic: Inspired by true events from World War I, it depicts hapless, gasmasked soldiers in a trench being eaten alive by starving wolves.

With this release, the band did add a new member to strengthen their assault. Bass player/vocalist Aaron Schmidt shifted to guitar and vocals, while Will Saenz was brought in to take over bass duties. This gives Nature of War a fuller, more focused sound, propelled by the double guitar blitzkrieg of Schmidt and Joseph Valhal as well as Schmidt’s scalding vocals.

After a brief build up, the album’s opener, “Violent Enlightenment,” throws you into battle with little time to react. From there, the album plays like a series of brutalizing mini skirmishes with stinging solos, pummeling beats, and the occasional slower part that gives you just enough time to catch your breath.

At its heart, Suppressive Fire is a rock band with a true appreciation for the riff, and nods to Thin Lizzy and Judas Priest can be heard throughout the album. Still, songs like “Dreaded Bastards,” “Earthripper” and “Nature of War” keep the band firmly entrenched in thrash territory, with death and destruction gleefully reigning.